


Teen!lock drabble

by charsane



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Ficlet, Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Oneshot, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 08:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charsane/pseuds/charsane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://bbcsherlockheadcanon.tumblr.com/post/72920411116/submission-by-captainsarcasm22#notes">this post</a>. Basically Sherlock has a solo in a chorus performance and his voice thinks that is a great time to start to mature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teen!lock drabble

**Author's Note:**

> Also featured on my tumblr [here!](http://newtongroupie.tumblr.com/post/72951123658/teen-lock-drabbles-because-idk-why)

John sat at the back of their secondary school auditorium, avoiding the glances he would get every now and then from parents filing in to watch their children sing. He saw that some of the parents looked at him with pity and he clutched his father’s dog tags more tightly in his fist, fixing his gaze straight ahead at the stage. He was here because Sherlock’s parents did not want to be, and because he did not want to spend the evening at home with his grieving mother. John could only take so much.  


It was Christmas time. It was his and Sherlock’s last year in secondary school and Sherlock had been bouncing the idea of auditioning for a solo around in his mind for ages. John was loathe to sing unless he had been drinking, but he knew Sherlock had a lovely voice and this was his last chance to show it off (and Sherlock loved showing off so of course John urged him to do so.)  


The only problem was that Sherlock was still self conscious about his voice. John had assured him that his voice was fine, he was a lovely tenor at the moment and simply a late bloomer.  


"There must be something wrong with me, I can’t simply be a late bloomer,” Sherlock had snapped from where he had sprawled across John’s lap on his couch.  


"That’s right, because nothing is ever simple with Sherlock Holmes, not even the obvious," John mused back over his textbooks.  


The choir director came out of a door on the side of the stage and the members of the choir followed obediently behind her and took up their stations on the risers. Sherlock’s dark hair was easy to spot and John’s eyes found him almost immediately. He looked rather impeccable in that suit of his, John thought distractedly, his fingers mechanically rubbing the cold metal of the dog tags.  


The concert began without a hitch and John found himself tapping his foot to some of the music and almost having to wipe a tear away at others. Some of the girls really knew how to make a Christmas carol pull at your heart strings. Sherlock’s solo came round about two thirds of the way of the concert and John was excited for it. Sherlock hadn’t let him hear when he practiced, which wasn’t that often.  


It was only two lines of Silent Night, but that was John’s favorite carol and he listened with rapt attention. It was splendid and he felt his eyes slip closed as he enjoyed Sherlock’s voice until-  


The last note didn’t sound quite right. John looked down at Sherlock and saw the flash of horror in his eyes. He wanted to feel bad for Sherlock, really, but what he felt instead was much better: joy.  


Sherlock’s voice had cracked.  


John couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face like fire. Even from the back of the auditorium he could see that Sherlock had witnessed his glee. It earned John a glare for the rest of the performance but John didn’t mind.  
Sherlock’s voice was finally starting to change.  


John met Sherlock behind the auditorium by a small drift of snow and threw an arm around his shoulders in exuberance. “I told you that you were just a late bloomer!” he crowed.  


"Yes, you did, didn’t you?" Sherlock admitted, looking down at John with an eyebrow quirked upwards and a barely-there smile.  


John withdrew and settled for holding one of Sherlock’s hands, which Sherlock didn’t mind one bit, and said shyly, “You know, your voice already gets me to do things…wonder what you’ll get me to do when it’s all deep and sexy?” He met Sherlock’s eyes with a cheeky grin and Sherlock realized that John was being coy.  


Sherlock smirked in response and backed John up against the brick wall of the auditorium, pressing his body against the full length of John’s. The cold of the brick seeped through John’s jacket and sent chills down his body but the heat from Sherlock went straight to his groin. Sherlock kissed John decisively, softly at first, but then hard enough to knock John’s head against the wall.  


"I can tell you what I will not try and get you to do,” Sherlock offered, bringing a hand up to cradle John’s head in apology.  


John took a moment to regain his breath. 

“Yeah? What’s that?”  


"Make me audition for any more solos," Sherlock chuckled. "I have had quite enough of those for now."  


The pair dissolved into laughter, their breath mingling into a collective plume that ascended above them, dissolving into the December air as they staggered hand-in-hand towards the sidewalk home.


End file.
